Breaking Blue
by mlle.imandeus
Summary: BlueDog Soda inspired someone to ask about a Sam & Cat version of Breaking Bad. This is the beginning. also my first try at shorter chapters which I heard might attract more readers. puckentine. M for language, violence and perhaps one day sex.
1. Chapter 1

"I don't understand why Blue Dog is still illegal." Cat said. "That mean agent man said we were right."

"Yeah, but he doesn't make the laws." I reminded her. "Even if he started this all, and we don't know if he did. He said he made it illegal, but he absolutely seems like the type that would try to take credit for something because he just happened to be around when it happened."

"Well I don't want us to keep making it. But people are knocking on our window day and night. And I know they are texting and calling you at all hours. I'm glad we didn't give out my number." Cat complained.

I'd used my number because I didn't want them blowing up Cat's phone and her feeling overwhelmed. But with all the hate I was getting, I was doubly glad now. "Someone offered me five hundred dollars for a case."

Cat froze. "Are you sure they said dollars. They didn't say five hundred bucks, and when you give them the case they give you a sack of plastic deer."

"They said dollars." I replied.

"They didn't say five hundred clams and they are going to show up with a bag of shellfish?" Cat asked.

"They said dollars." I repeated.

"Five hundred pesos is only about thirty-eight dollars. That's more than we were selling them for but not that impressive. And if he said five hundred wozniacks, I don't even know what a wozniack is, and I don't believe you do either."

I was laughing now. "He said dollars Cat. He said five hundred dollars."

"Well, if you're certain he didn't mean sand dollars, I hope you sold them to him." Cat said.

"I thought we weren't going to sell it anymore." I said.

"Five hundred dollars Sam. That's naughty ATM money, and how much fun did we have that week. That could be our life." Cat said in her flirty tempting voice.

"But we started doing this for the principle. That it wasn't fair to make laws telling people they couldn't drink Blue Dog. If we sell it for 500 dollars a case, not everyone would be able to afford it." I said.

"Fifty dollars a case then. That's only a little more than two dollars a bottle. That's fair. with the risk we're taking." Cat replied after thinking about it for a few moments.

"But what about the person who is offering five hundred. What will they do when they find out other people are getting it for one tenth as much?" I wondered aloud. Then I continued, "So we don't have a set price. We are doing something illegal. If we're going to continue to do it we have to keep it quiet. So we need to not advertise at all. People know we're here and what we're doing. When people approach we just look at them and guesstimate the most they can afford. Let them try to haggle us down if they can't or won't pay what we ask."

"But what if they can't afford it but don't know they can bargain, and they give us money they can't spare?" Cat worried.

"That can't be our problem." I told her. "We were not put on this earth to worry about every single person and what they spend their money on and whether they can afford it."

"You're right. But I don't like to think about it." Cat said.

"I know, princess." I replied

It didn't take long for the word to get out that we were selling again. Or that it was a lot more expensive now.  
How much changed from person to person exactly how I suggested. Whatever seemed like the most they would pay.

Also the price never went down for anyone but sometimes we would tell a regular that the price needed to go up, if they seemed to be coming around too often or otherwise seemed to not be feeling the old price enough.

It wasn't long before I sat Cat down to talk about getting a gun with all the cash we had in the house.

"I'm not at all sure we should have a gun. I don't like guns. They scare me." Cat said.

"I know kid, but we have over five thousand dollars in the house right now. Forget strangers and thieves and gangbangers.  
If Gwen and Ruby knew we had that much they'd try for it.  
If those wazbags who were racing babies knew about it, they'd be breaking in.  
I'm not sure I'd trust Dice and Goomer if we weren't already partners.  
Now I think I should start carrying. At least a nine millimeter. But I want to get a shotgun for the house. Something you can use in an emergency. Something that is more simply point and shoot rather than anything you have to practice and play with." I told her.

"I'm not shooting anyone." Cat said. "If anyone is going to come in here trying to get our money. They can just have it. We can always get more."

"Cat, sweetie, if the word on the street is that anyone who comes in here, when I'm not here, can take what they want and walk out without any consequences. They are gonna mob the place as soon as I walk out the door. And if you think they are going to be happy with just the money, when there is a beautiful teenage girl sitting there defenseless."

Cat batted her eyes at me and said, "You think I'm beautiful?" in that sexy flirty voice she has.

"Of course I think you're beautiful. Everyone thinks you're beautiful. Your beauty is a scientific fact. But it's not the important fact in this conversation."

"Oh, Sam. I had no idea you felt this way." Cat replied all coy.

"You had no idea? The fact I have been sleeping with you for six months didn't give you a clue? The fact that I tell you I love you thirty times a day didn't give you a hint?" I asked.

"Samothrace Puckelopolous, I am shocked. Many people believe my sparkling personality and bubbly joie de vive would attract suitors. I had no clue you only were interested in something as shallow as appearance. I'll have to be certain to never get injured or old."

But I was laughing too hard at 'Samothrace Puckelopolous' to even answer and I told her so. "But, the point is, I'm getting a couple guns. I can't make you use them. But I hope if your safety is at stake, you will."

Dice was able to get me a 9 millimeter and a pump shotgun with a pistol grip and a ten shell magazine. It looked truly terrifying, but I felt so much better having it in the house.

It was only a few days later when we got our first fool trying to test us. Luckily I was home.  
This idiot knocked on our window about ten at night. There was no one around. I could tell what he was about to do. He was maybe twenty, skinny, pale and pimply. He wore dirty jeans and a stained hoodie that might have been navy or black. I had my gun out just a moment before he did.

We just stood there looking at each other.

"'Sup," He said.

I just stared at him.

"'Sup," He said again.

I just squinted down a bit like I was aiming and stared at him. Then I said, "You feelin' froggy, son. You might as well leap."

"You got a problem?" He said

"Yes I do." I said. "I'm going to count to three and if you don't lay that gun on the window ledge and run, I'm gonna solve this problem. I'm gonna solve it hard. One."

"You don't have the guts." He said sounding nervous.

I knew the only weapon that would stop this before it turned bloody was his fear, so I just stared. "Two."

He waited a second after two, but there was no way he was waiting for three. He laid the gun down and ran like his butt was on fire.

He even had the nerve to come back the next day to get his gun back. Talking about how 'things just got a little crazy, but no harm done'. I was laughing too hard to even address his question. But I guess he got the meaning and left.

That night as Cat and I were cuddling on the couch watching an old Drake and Josh rerun, there was a knock at the door.

It was Nona. She brought her friend Ralph and we were happy to see her. At least until the door was shut.  
Then she said, "I hear you've been selling bootleg Blue Dog Soda. But I guess you forgot to give Nona a taste."

With a signal from Nona, Ralph started breaking things. He hit out tv with his cane and broke the screen.

Then he walked over and hooked our microwave off the counter and pulled it on the floor. As Cat said, "If you want a taste Nona, I'll get you some right now. I didn't know you liked Blue Dog."

Ralph opened our fridge and started sweeping all the contents off the shelves, then beating anything that doesn't break with his cane to make sure.

Cat, ever trusting calls out. "The Blue Dog isn't in there Ralph. Since its still illegal we keep it in a little fridge in the bedroom, I'll get you each one."

She jumped up and was almost to the bedroom door when she froze at the sound of a gun cocking.


	2. Chapter 2

Cat froze and turned around. She looked a little scared, but mostly confused. "Nona, I was just going to get you and Ralph each a Blue Dog." Cat said, sounding more like she thought Nona was being silly, than that she actually felt any danger.

"Now now Cat, this isn't about soda." Nona said. "This is about money. And by my guess you and Sam have ten thousand dollars in the house. And what you don't seem to understand is I'd kill everyone here for five."

I had used this time, while she was distracted, to pull my own weapon.  
Knowing Cat would never stand for me pointing a gun at her grandmother. Even though that same granny was currently pointing a gun at her. I aimed at Ralph and said, "You're not shooting anyone. Or robbing anyone, Nona. Not unless you want me to open a hole in your partner."

Nona glanced at me, "Ralph is no partner of mine. He's an employee and a poor one. Shoot him. Shoot him twice, I don't care. I'll shoot him myself. I was certainly including him in the 'everyone here' that I'd kill for a fin."

I knew 'fin' was an old timey word for five dollars. So I guessed she was using some drug slang. Like how a 'nickle bag' cost five or fifty dollars, depending on the drug. I guess in her world a 'fin' was five thousand.

"Please Nona, if you need some money I'd be happy to loan you some." Cat said.

"Listen here, you babbling twit. You will give me all the money you have in the house. The 60% cut I'm entitled to and a little extra to make up for trying to cheat me out of what's mine.  
I kept the Bloods and the Crips out of this neighborhood. I shot the leader of the Latin Kings' pecker off and now they all work for Nona. What made you think you were immune? Cause you're my granddaughter? Family don't mean that much to me, kid. Not if they steal from me. You work my town without givin' Nona her taste and you're a stranger. And strangers get dangers, little girl."

Cat was starting to cry. "Nona," (sniff) "I don't know why you're being so mean to me."

I'm not gonna say the old bitch looked guilty, or concerned. I think I was learning those feelings didn't register with her. But she did give my girl just a hint of a smile, with shades of the Nona we knew around her eyes. "Cat sweetie, this isn't personal. It's business, and business is the same for everybody, granddaughter or not. Now be a good girl and get Nona her money. The sooner we get square the sooner we can put all this behind us."

Cat went dutifully into our bedroom and returned with a paper bag. "Here Nona."

"Is it all there Cat? I don't think I need to tell you what I'll do if you try to cheat me." Nona asked.

"I know Nona. You'll shoot me, then chop me up and force Sam to eat me. Then, when she poops me out you'll use Nona voodoo to bring me back to life and kill Sam and make the poop-me eat her. And then you'll chop up the poop-me and use it to fertilize the lawn at Elderly Acres. Don't worry, both of us are terrified." Cat ranted.

Nona smacked her in the face with her gun barrel. "Don't get cheeky with me, young lady."

I ran to Cat to comfort her and make sure her split lip wasn't too serious. While Nona rifled through the bag.

"There's gotta be closer to fifteen thousand in here. Good girl." She said. "One...two...three." She found three hundred dollar bills and dropped them on us. "Here's a little something for supplies. See, I'm not an unreasonable woman. Just don't try to cheat me out of what's due me." She started to leave with Ralph tagging behind. Intentionally putting his cane down on my toe as he passed. Right before she shut the door, Nona turned and said. "I'll be back Friday for my cut of the week's take."

Once the door was closed Cat laughed so hard she started her lip bleeding worse.

"Ten thousand. We've been back in business for almost a month. Ten thousand is what we'd've made if we were selling it at the price it was when it was legal. The fifteen I gave her is just over a third of what we had. And if she thinks that's 100% of our profits we can give her ten and tell her it's sixty and she obviously won't know.  
And that's just for now.  
Because apparently, business is business, family or not. Which to me is practically the same as asking us to cheat her and plot to take over her whole operation." She laughed. Really laughed a bit louder and longer than I was entirely comfortable with, given the subject matter. But I knew she was a spunky playful sort when I signed on for a life with her.

"So how much do we have left?" I asked.

"Twenty-eight, twenty-nine thousand." She replied.

"Good. You should have let me shoot her though." I said.

"Oh Sammi-lamb, you're so violent and shooty." Cat said, in that playful 'isn't my homicidal girlfriend cute?' way she has. "Business may be business, but family is family. And I am not the kind of girl who lets her girlfriend kill or maim her Nona, no matter how crazy or dangerous her Nona may be."

The next two weeks we made and sold Blue Dog. Calling it Perro Azul in a reverse of how 1930's government had called cannabis by the mexican slang term marijuana to push through legislation to make it illegal. Even though cannabis sativa had been put in dozens of over the counter medicines up until that point. Using American ignorance and isolationism to hide something illegal rather than to take away something that had always been perfectly lawful.

Even though it wasn't a perfect strategy it worked well enough to be a little sad in a city with as many Hispanics as Los Angeles.

Then one day Nona invited us out for dinner at a steakhouse popular with her friends where Cat and I had shared some very sexy dinners of our own.

The first part was almost like dinners with Nona used to be. Both she and Cat were working hard to make things seem as normal as possible. But finally the old girl got to the point.

"I know you girls think the five to seven thousand we make in a week is a lot of money." Nona said.  
We tried not to laugh or do anything that gave away the fact that we made three or four times that as we nodded attentively.  
"But that's just small potatoes to me, barely worth getting out of bed for. I was thinking we need to move more product. If you two can make more than a hundred cases a week we need to sell more than a hundred cases a week. And if you can't, we need to bring in more people so you can."

We could make a hundred cases a day if we were working all day at it, but neither of us had any interest in sharing that.

"But if we're going to really make big with this, we need to add a little incentive." Nona said

"Nona, what do you mean incentive?" Cat asked.

"Insurance. Something to keep the people coming back. Something the soda they can buy cheap and legal doesn't have. Coca-Cola used to have cocaine, but that's too expensive. Meth would certainly get them addicted. But, with the chemicals in it, it tastes like something you'd use to disinfect a robot whore's rubber cooze with. Then it hit me. 'What's the most addictive thing there is?' I asked myself. Smokes. Nicotine and the other shit they put in there to keep the people buying them. And in the amounts we'd need... just like a cigarette's worth in every bottle. It might add some bitterness, maybe numb the tongue a bit, but nothing that would stop people drinking it. And the taste at least, we could probably tweak the formula to mask it."

Cat looked incensed. "Nona I am not gonna sell cigarette soda to kids."

"Oh Cat sweetie, I thought I made it clear. You'll do what you're fucking told and you'll be happy to do it. Now you mind your Nona. I thought you two understood. I'm letting you keep working the biz because 'why not?' And I like you. But I will shut you out faster than piss and do it all myself if you can't play ball."

"I'm sorry Nona. You're right. I'll play ball." Cat said in a voice that I recognized as her placating and planning tone. It really was the most dangerous of her moods. Usually only found when she forgot to take her 'special vitamins'. But Nona had been pushing her pretty steady since this whole mess started.

But apparently how much one really earns in the illegal soda biz was not the only thing Nona didn't know and underestimated.  
Because where anyone who knew my girl would be backing away slowly with their hands in plain view, repeating, "I'm sorry Cat. I'm sorry, Cat..." Over and over. Nona just patted my girl's hand, saying. "Good girl. See, I knew you were smart." in the most patronizing tone I had ever heard.


End file.
